TARDIS Data Log: Creepypastas
by Dalektopia
Summary: The twisted realities of a madman in a box could scare you, but the show only scratches the surface. Various excerpts best read in the dark.
1. Chapter 1

**Talking**

They were talking. Not just some blurred, exasperated, staccato voiced, electric tinged sound coming out of their throats. No, they were talking. Their voices were normal, as they were when they themselves were alive. Most were already torn apart, their entrails dragging behind them, blood coating their hands and face, caking pale white skin with a morbid sort of makeup. They never screamed. They never yelled. They merely talked with a calm demeanor. Even with bullets and grenades riddling their bodies; their decomposing, putrid bodies, they still talked with that soft tone. I had never expected this. They were normal people, they acted normal. The only thing that truly did give them away were the prolonged cuts and scratches that never seemed to heal for weeks. They never showed signs of being what they truly were. Never did show anything until that glowing blue eye cracked open the front of their forehead.

Then they started feeding.

They ate with such disgusting vigour, ripping apart muscle and tissue, blood dripping from their mouths. They didn't care much for it, though…

And even through it all, they still talked.

My father walked into the house, a smile upon his face as per usual. He had his normal demeanor as he announced to his wife, my mother, that he had just received a raise. She greeted him with open arms. He greeted her with another smile and plunged his mouth into her throat and started to rip her apart, that metallic appendage growing on his forehead in a small burst of brain fluids and blood. I was on the couch, staring at the scene in front of me. I gagged, trying to move quickly. I ran. He noticed. Then I felt nothing, of course. I didn't feel him breaking my neck. I didn't know he was ripping me apart. I didn't know. I'm sorry. I'm behind you. It won't hurt for much longer.


	2. Chapter 2

**Calling**

Father Dominic Sanctus was a supremely religious man. His life was entirely dedicated to God and the banishment of evil from the world. Anything that was deemed an offense to the faith by him was immediately demanded to be taken down by the priest. That included two certain episodes of the television series: _Doctor Who_. Upon airing in the United States in the late summer of 2006, the two part story _The Impossible Planet_/_The Satan Pit_ was received well by the fans of the show, but not the priest. He deemed it an outrage.

It was heresy; a complete mockery of the faith that he held so deeply to his mind.

He contacted the BBC, telling them of the millions that may have been offended by the episodes. He was, of course, shot down entirely. Nothing he did could spread the word that the episodes and the show itself were works of 'demon possessed scum'. He couldn't do anything.

The days have passed after the show. It was now a Sunday night, albeit an unusually cold and cloudy one for the season. Father Dominic was in his office, still very much angry at the episodes that have been shown. He sits in a reclining chair, bathed in the soft glow of a laptop screen. In one hand he holds a rosary, praying. The other, a bible, turned to the Book of Revelations. In his thoughts he tried to speak to God.

He receives an email.

_From: HiR  
>To: Father Dominic Sanctus<br>Hello, father. I see that you have seen me. Odd that the human race has actually tried to recreate me before but this is the very thing that I like to witness. Imagination from your minds, the very thing I gave you. Free will. You made me into something that humanity should have feared and continue to fear. Do you know what the message was within those episodes? It was not hope that the human race would eventually rise into the stars. No. It was me._

_I am returning._

The father reads it and shrugs it off, replying with a half-hearted message.

_From: Father Dominic Sanctus  
>To: HiR<br>You are a misguided, arrogant and selfish man. You think that those words would make me into a beast such as yourself? You are nothing. Burn in hell you coward!_

As soon as the priest had sent the message, one immediately popped into his inbox.

_From: HiR  
>To: Father Dominic Sanctus<br>Why would I burn in hell when I am already there?_

The priest was now furious. Some sick teenager, probably, was portraying the Devil himself, 'The Beast' as he was portrayed in the show. Father Dominic would not have any of this. He begins to type a reply, when he receives yet another message.

_From: HiR  
>To: Father Dominic Sanctus<br>Father, Father, Father. You have disappointed me. You didn't ask who I was. You didn't ask where I was and I know that you are about to. You've said many times before within your liturgies that the Devil was a creature that manifested within your mind. That it feeds on sin and hatred for humanity. No. I am also physical. My body lives as it had been when I was cast from the gates of heaven, abandoned by God. I was the first fire, the creature that truly has conquered the human race, the faceless dictator of Earth. Father, He is returning._

_Now, because you think that the Devil is within your conscience, consider this: who do you think is reading this in your mind right now?_


	3. Chapter 3

**The Imaginary Friend**

Do you remember that imaginary friend you used to have? The one you played with all the time and never got tired of? The one you talked to when things seemed so down all the time? Even if you think that you don't have one, you know you did. That is until your parents told you to knock it off. They tell you to stop thinking about him. Saying that he isn't real, you know?

They tell me, "You forget him every time you meet him. He's not real!"

That's just because they can't see him. His soft, dark eyes coupled with pale white skin. He's bald, of course but he's a really fun guy. He also wears a suit all the time and speaks in this deep, raggedy voice. Sometimes he makes a mistake and knocks over a few things at night but it's alright. He tends to be quiet about everything, you know. He's silent most of the time and I can never forget him. He just wants to play. I know he does. I know he's around whenever I feel this weird, tingling behind me; that odd shiver that crawls up your spine. It's weird, but he says it's alright, that us humans always do that, you know?

If you ever feel that then you know he's there with you. You may not see him, but he's there. He just wants to play.


	4. Chapter 4

**Eternal Partners**

Do you ever think to look behind you on a bright, sunny day? Any typical one would do. No one's following you, no one's out to hurt you. It's silly to think that there's something bad out there to get you. They aren't as bad in the sense that they willingly want to hurt you, but they do constantly follow you around. Fuelled by one thing and one thing alone, they swim around wherever the light cannot reach them, constantly in need to eat something.

But in all cases of life, they are still patient.

They wait in the darkness. They are the darkness. They watch with invisible eyes, their invisible mouths filled with invisible teeth. You can't see them. No one can. That is, until you look under you on a bright sunny day. They're always there, following you, watching you, mimicking your every move. Though insatiable, they will always have the patience to wait.

Even as I type, they follow my movements.

They're everywhere, clinging onto whatever darkness they can find. So if you think that sitting in the dark, underneath the blankets to hide from the creatures that make you forget or kill you whenever you blink, think about what lurks in the darkness itself. Think about what creatures make up the darkness. Think about your shadow that follows you wherever you go. Walking, talking, moving with you until your deathbed, until you're dead and buried. Then their patience is rewarded.


End file.
